Those Eyes
by SouhiBear
Summary: 1942. WW2 is in its 3rd year when American Shikamaru Nara and Englishman Neji Hyuuga are brought together to fight for their countries. Their journey starts with a stolen kiss, but in an era of War, Mud and Death, will it ever become more? M. Angst. Yaoi


_AN: Just putting this up to see if it holds any interest to anyone. If I get any of the facts wrong, please notify me and I'll set it straight - I'm really sorry! And also, the song at the beginning is called 'Them There Eyes' and was written in 1930 – Download a copy :D - I don't own 'Naruto' at all and I'm not advertising war or anything at all like that with this fic, My intentions are not to linger on old wounds or blame, only on writing an Angsty ShikaNeji :L. Criticism please and reviews pweese pweese pweese - Rated M for the future_

1942. England.

"I fell in love with you the first time I looked into...  
Them There Eyes!  
And you have a certain lil' cute way of flirtin'...  
With Them There Eyes!"

She was blond, wore bright red lipstick and sequins. A real little show girl. All the boys had their eyes on her as she swayed with her singing and the band. Her thin hands wore gloves, and she seemed to showed them off, entrancing the men closer with satin-covered fingers.

"They make me feel so happy,  
They make me feel so blue,  
I'm fallin', no stallin',  
In a great, big way for you!"

One officer however wasn't watching her, not at all.

"My heart is jumpin', you've started somethin',  
With Them There Eyes~"

His hair was longer than hers, and in a deep chocolate brown. For all anyone could have guessed, it could have been _his_ eyes she was singing about. They were something special.

"You better look out lil' brown eyes... If you're wise!  
They sparkle,  
They bubble,  
They're gonna get you in a whole lot of _trouble_!  
Oh _baby_... Them There Eyes~"

From across the room, a dark-eyed man let a gentle sigh leave his pale lips along with warm, fragrant smoke.

"-We're shipping out tomorrow, that's such a-"

"-Shut up, idiot. 'Careless talk costs lives', you know that..."

The velvet covered couches which lined the dance hall stank of tobacco and perfume. They were a deep red, threadbare in some places and occasionally partitioned with wooden arm rests or half tables, drinks spilt across the lacquered wood and empty glasses standing alone. Ashtrays and ash.

Shikamaru couldn't help but think that this place must have been very grand a few years ago. So elegant and special. He could imagine it..! A _real_ swing band – real musicians, the barmen the same, the fine foods they would serve and the neat spirits. The best would dance here. The best of the best.

What a ruin the war had brought upon the hall.

The band was now make-shift; made up of pensioners and those too young to carry a gun. They served canned nuts at the bar ('No meals,' the sign said. 'Redeem your ration slips at your local grocer's – Issued by The Ministry of Food') and the whisky was watered down. The black-out blinds in the window trapped the garish light in, making the air stuffy and the room seemingly cramped. The magic of the music became lost. And instead of loved-up couples dancing here, it was a sea of military uniforms and local girls – each one eager for a party to forget their lives.

But then, the war had ruined a lot of things for everyone.

It was spring back home.

Shikamaru Nara was a Sergeant Major in the US territorial army. It was only thanks to his quick thinking and intellect that he was awarded with such a position. In reality, he was a lazy, good-for-nothing bum who wanted nothing more than to sit on his balcony, listen to the radio and watch the clouds go by. A good chess set wouldn't go a miss either.

Born in 1922, He'd grown up on a deer farm, which his family still owned and looked after along the west coast. When Shikamaru was 12 years old in 1934, his teacher and friend (a bearded man named Asuma Sarutobi) took him to live in the city. When he was a little older, He made his trade by doing any odd job he could lay his hands on – a temporary worker – and that suited him fine. No commitment. No expectations. And if he didn't fancy going into work one day, he could just quit and get a new job the next day! It was just fine.

After Asuma died, the Nara lived in a small apartment shared with his best friend, Chouji Akamichi, where they enjoyed lazy afternoons and good, home-cooked food from the lovely Italian widow who lived next door to their run-down home. It was in the slums, really. Paint peeled from the walls, damp leaked into the ceiling and it had three rooms, as well as a balcony. A kitchen/living room, a cupboard-bathroom and a bedroom with two single beds. It was simple living, but it suited them fine.

In 1939, when Shikamaru was 17 years old, Great Britain declared war on Germany. The whole world seemed to change then...

And then in December 1941, the US joined the war. And conscription started after Christmas that year.

It had been a year since then, and already Chouji and him had been split up. He now had his own little squad of a handful of men – despite his young age, and a few of the British joining him in the morning. But right now, his platoon was... Drunk. It was their night off, a kind of 'shore-leave' type thing. 'Dance with the Boys' was what it was called - a military ball.

Troublesome, was what it was.

The Sgt. Major took to sitting in his corner, with his whisky and his cigarette, listening to other people talk. Which was what he was doing right now. He leant back against the couch, one foot resting on the opposite knee as he watched. Maybe he could nap... Just.. Close his eyes and...

"Sergeant Nara?"

He opened an eye lazily. And looked up at the soldier addressing him. Surveying and analysing him.

"You better look out lil' brown eyes, if you're wise!  
Sparkle~  
Bubble~  
Gonna get you in a whole lot of _trouble_..!  
I'm lookin' for the boy with the wistful eyes,  
I fell in love... With~ Them~ There~ Eyes!"

The song ended, the singer curtsied vainly and smiled as the soldiers clapped, the band bowing too. The man facing the Sergeant had waist-length chocolate hair, white unmarred skin and the palest eyes Shikamaru had ever seen. Was he blind? He couldn't have been... He wouldn't be in a uniform if he was.

But they were undoubtedly the most beautiful thing Shikamaru had ever seen.

"...Sergeant Major actually, call me Shikamaru." Shikamaru yawned and stretched, sitting up properly and rubbing the back of his neck. "And you are? You're a Brit, right? What do you want with me?"

The man facing him was indeed English – very well spoken at that from what he could tell. "Lieutenant Neji Hyuuga," The handsome man put out his hand to shake. "I understand we'll be working together from tomorrow morning onwards."

Oh yeah... Shikamaru thought he remembered the name now. He'd heard a lot of stuff about him, and his records were certainly impressive. Neji was quite famous in his squad - top of his class in everything. He came from a noble English family, his blood-uncle the head of the whole household, the whole family was clouded in secrets and mystery from what he'd heard. He certainly seemed so... stuck-up. And tomorrow morning, they would be working together – as arranged about a week ago. Shikamaru smirked a little and reached forward, firmly shaking his hand. "Lieutenant? We don't call you lot that back home."

"...Lieftenant, I believe."

"That's it." He smirked a little more. "So, Neji, what did you want?"

"...I'd prefer Lieutenant Hyuuga if you don't mind."

"Nah, I don't mind. Take a seat, Neji."

With a stiff face, Neji sat. This man was intolerable. Utterly so. "Sgt. Nara, I wanted to-"

"-Shikamaru."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Shikamaru, Neji. Can I get you a drink?"

"...N-No, I have one." A tumbler of water was clasped firmly in his long-fingered hand. "You see, I wanted to

talk about your soldiers. I propose that-"

"-Ah, ah. We're not meant to talk about that. 'Loose lips' and all that. I already heard two of your guys talking about shipping out."

Neji didn't say anything at first. He looked calculatingly at this other man. The Sgt. had earrings and.. Long hair – plus his uniform was in no decent shape! How had he gotten away with all that? Neji had heard a lot of rumours about him and his intellect but now upon meeting the man, he was beginning to doubt this information. Perhaps he _was_ just a punk...

"So, how come they didn't shave your hair off?" Shikamaru stubbed his cigarette out into an ashtray, putting the remainder of the stub back into his pocket for later.

"I was about to ask you the same."

Shikamaru shrugged, "Maybe you paid them to leave it alone." Neji didn't answer.

"...Quiet one, ain't ya."

Neji frowned a little. Who was this man?! Why did he think it appropriate to speak to his superior like that?! Even if they were in different armies, from tomorrow they would be working together with a small group of each of their own men, so as much as Neji disliked the man's attitude, he would have to put that aside.

"Can we step outside, Sgt. Na-" He sighed, irritably, "... Shikamaru? Perhaps we could discuss matters then."

Shikamaru nodded in agreement and both men stood, the Sgt. slouching with his his hands in his pockets and the handsome (well, he couldn't really be called _handsome... _was too... to be called _handsome_) Lieutenant walking with head held high.

Outside, the night was calm and still. The sky was flecked with stars, dotted on a dark sky. There was no wind to be felt, no clouds either.

Shikamaru stood by the dance hall door, staring up at the sky with a small, lazy smile, narrow eyes flicking softly from constellation to constellation. Neji had walked further out into the courtyard. He turned back to see where the other had stopped. That was the first time that Neji had took a proper look at Shikamaru. He took in his flawless skin, reflected and pale in the moonlight, dark brown eyes glinting with the white light as well. He had slim physique, khaki uniform fitted and complimentary. He really was a good looking man.

"Shikamaru?" Said man looked up, as if woken from a trance and walked forward, catching up with the Lieutenant as they walked away from the doorway and down to the canal which ran near-by. Neither had said to go down that way, it was as if both just subconsciously... _knew_.

The stars watched them, and the sounds of the water slowly running by the bank and down into the town accompanied them on their silent walk, the addicting scent of Shikamaru's tobacco smoke fleeting up into the dark, clear sky. The Hyuuga hated smoking. It was an expensive habit, a vulgar taste, smell and look and normally he would chastise severely for it, and yet for some reason, he let this already rebellious Sgt. (sorry, Sgt. _Major_) with his scruffy uniform, his earrings and his positively gravity-defying hair get away with it. He didn't know why.

It was a long time before either of them spoke, comfortable with each other's company and happy relaxing in the fresh air, free from the noise of the dance hall.

"So... Neji. What did you want to talk about? You don't seem the kind of man to take another man out for a stroll, simply for the hell of seeing the stars." Shikamaru smiled reassuringly, his words merely teasing and not to be taken to heart. He was building trust here. It could be possible that this man would save the young Sgt.'s life at some point in this wretched war, or vice versa. Or it could be that they would die laying in the mud next to each other, as a lot of young soldier's went. Or... That the Lieftenant's life would be sacrificed in one of Shikamaru's brilliant strategies. Heaven forbid that such an outcome would arise.

Neji stopped to face him, serious and gesturing with his hands lightly - such long fingered, white hands, reflected and shadowed in the moonlight. "I wanted to speak about our upcoming mission together. In which, so I understand, that you will be leading four of your own men, and four of mine, and myself into enemy territory." Despite the fact that Neji out-ranked him. It was a decision the Hyuuga was opposed to before having read the man's records, and was beginning to oppose the plans again upon his meeting with Shikamaru.

"I want to know if you are really the upstanding Sgt. I have heard about, or if you are merely some... Average officer. No offence meant, but the lives of my men are at stake." Shikamaru nodded, stubbing out his cigarette on the dirt path-way so as the smoke wasn't blowing into the man's face. "I get that, I do. I already know about your records and stuff, and I know you're capable. I assumed you got mine?" Neji had. But he wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth, so to speak, and remained unchanging in facial expression. "No? Well uh, I'll make sure you get a copy. I'm not one to dwell on what's been and unlike a lotta officers I don't like bragging. Troublesome thing, bragging. Gives you a reputation to up-live, and that's even more troublesome. But if you wanna know... I'd say I'm a coward."

...A... Coward?

Neji blinked. He'd been in this war for three years before he'd met this Yank and not once had he ever heard a ranked officer describe himself or been described as a coward. Surely he was definitely _not _what Neji had been told. Shikamaru noted the man's expression and stretched his arms up to put them on the back of his neck. "Bit of a shock? Come on... Don't tell me this war doesn't scare you shitless?! I've never met an officer yet who's admitted he's afraid of being shot in the head from across a muddy wasteland, not even the ones who have had their legs blown off, or the ones gone crazy from the sound of shells. That damn military propaganda's all got to their heads. All glory and courage. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm no good with pain. And I'm a coward, that's why I'll do all I can to make sure my men and I come out of this thing alive. In body and mind." He sighed, a little embarrassed of his outburst as he looked to the sky for a silent second and then back down to Neji in all seriousness, arms by his side. "Is that Ok for you, Lieutenant Neji Hyuuga?"

"...That's just fine, Sergeant Nara."

"Shikamaru."

"...Shikamaru."

Shikamaru smiled softly at Neji, who almost smiled in return. A sort of mutual understanding formed between them right then. Although it was only a 'brothers-in-arms' relationship at that point, a sort of, 'I don't want to die and neither do you, so let's help each other' deal, it would become something stronger. It was destined to be, surely. After all, the war had a way of fixing destinies for every man, from the Home-Guard officer in the street to the Political Leaders of every country, sitting at round tables and sending men to war.

"Good... Because I'll need your help. I hear you know the terrain of the land we'll be--" Shikamaru was cut short by the loud, mournful wail of a siren, splitting through the dark night. An air-raid siren. Both officers heads snapped to attention and to the sky, scanning the darkness lit by phosphorescent beams of search lights for enemy aeroplanes. Inside the dance hall, men and women were running down the stairs, switching off the lights to hide in the basement-turned-shelter. But out here, in an open green with nothing but the canal flowing through it and the nearest suitable shelter too far to run to... The pair were pretty stuck.

The wail screeched louder into the dark night, showing no signs of it being a drill, or of halting. They should have run then but almost instinctively their heads were swivelling, scanning the night for plane lights with huge eyes. Both flinched at the roar of the first explosion roughly 500 metres east of them. It rocked the ground, lighting up the sky with the lambent orange of fire and the smell of dust and sulphur hitting their nostrils almost immediately. Neji acted first, grabbing the younger man's hand tightly and yanking him, running off over a path of green field mostly ploughed loosely with Shikamaru in tow. They both panted, tearing over the ground, when suddenly an idea hit Shikamaru. The nearest shelter was a long way, they had strolled too far in a short time and they would never make it - judging by the number of plane lights in the sky, the amount of bombs and the wind speed. And the only thing made of something safe was the concrete lining the canal, used for boaters to load from. The Nara made a soft gasp as he spotted something on the other side of the canal – merely a dark shadow a little way down on the inside of the lining of the water but he knew exactly what it was.

Shikamaru dug his heels into the ground, yanking Neji back. "_Sergeant!" _The Hyuuga's eyes were wide and shocked as said officer locked their fingers together and ran them back at full speed towards the canal. "_Sergeant_! What are you _doing_?!" Shikamaru's eyes were narrowed, intent and still running right at the water.

"I'm getting us a temporary air-raid shelter!" Neji's lips were parted in disbelief, but he had no choice but to trust the man. It was too late to continue their journey back. Bombs were dropping near-by, echoing loudly and shaking the earth.

Shikamaru stopped by the water's edge, the Lieutenant's hand still locked firmly within his own as he began to pace, peering down and searching for something, squinting in the dark. They were both panting, adrenalin swimming through their veins madly as Shikamaru suddenly declared, "There!!"

The Nara jogged them just two metres to the left and let go of Neji's soft hand, suddenly disappearing down a ladder bolted to the concrete, "This way!" He continued to climb down as Neji watched, wide eyed as Shikamaru took half a leap to the left and disappeared into the concrete lining. It suddenly all made sense. The Lieutenant's head snapped up to look at the other side of the canal, which mirrored the one he stood on. He was faced with a sort of cave, a space carved into the concrete used for storing fishing traps and other things, seeing as the canal only filled it by about a foot in depth at its deepest, and there were most likely inset shelves inside the space. It was certainly big enough to hide two young men for now.

Perhaps this Shikamaru really was a genius.

Neji dropped down to the ladder too, climbing down and flinching as another bomb hit the other side of the green field, only 500 metres away from them, nearly exactly where they would have been headed if Shikamaru hadn't turned them around. He jumped down into the inset hole, splashing into the cold murky water which filled the space up to just under the rim of his boot. Shikamaru was already pressed against the far wall, "Concrete's at least a metre thick all around us with an iron lining too, that's how they make these things." He offered his hand, dry and warm and somehow safe. "We should be Ok right here."

With an approving nod, Neji took the offered hand tightly, using it to steady himself as he walked forward on the slippery concrete and to the back wall. An apocalyptic explosion went off close to them, making the water ripple violently and the earth to tremble around the two men. The stench of damp mixed with sulphur went right to the Hyuuga's head, and with another shock of the earth, he lost his footing, gripping Shikamaru's hand tightly as he fell forward, gasping softly with wide eyes as he did what every other human being faced with falling does; put out one's hands to brace the fall.

The Lieutenant ended up eye-to-eye with Shikamaru in the dark, one hand comfortably resting on his chest and the other gripping the Nara's hand firmly, their fingers interlocked. Their thighs were brushing, their hip bones resting on each other's like pieces of a puzzle and their middle parts suitably grazing.

Neji's eyes went rightly huge, and the breath between the 'brothers-in-arms' grew stale and tense, Shikamaru's own wide eyes staring right back at the man sprawled across him like a lover, the tips of their noses side by side and each pant of dry, hot air flowing across each other's thin, pink lips. Every single detail was visible on their faces, each other's eyes taking everything in. Every _hint _of emotion was visible in the other's eyes.

Embarrassment. Nervousness. Confusion. Adrenalin.

It would be impossible to tell who made the first move. Their gazes were darting up and down, never resting or halting or fixating on one particular feature in anxious nerves. And yet suddenly, panting further and deeper and the need consuming their brains and bodies, they began to move forward in a slow and almost unmatched unison, until, one set of eyes closing, Shikamaru and Neji's lips brushed each other's – locked in a soft, childish... kiss.

The world went silent. Heartbeats thumping loudly in their ears.

Merely seconds later another explosion went off somewhere downstream, causing the water to explode into waves which rocked hard into the inset space, the booming noise physically shaking the two officers from their silent reverie with a gasp each, plunging them coldly into reality. Neji accidentally let go of the other's warm grip to stumble and fall upon the left wall, looking out to the canal which soon began to calm.

The sky was on fire, and each man watched in equal silence for an hour, until the horrific wailing of sirens stopped. Shikamaru spoke first, his voice a little husky. "We ought to get back, or else they'll head off without us." Neji made a confirmatory noise, letting Shikamaru follow himself up the ladder and over the battered vegetable plot, and eventually to the dance hall, were military trucks of officers were being boarded to be taken back to camp.

The two faced each other, the anxiety clear on each other's face if only to those two alone.

"...I'll see you in the morning to arrange strategics."

"Sure... Neji."

Neji took a slow breath, saluted smartly, turned on his heel and left, leaving Shikamaru to finish his salute alone. The Nara watched the man jump onto a departing truck, sit down with his back straight and lock eyes with the Sergeant as he departed into the distance...


End file.
